Of Choices
by Thatdragonrider
Summary: Sometimes the final death isn't the first one and when decisions are made it makes a person realize that those were the steps all leading up to the final destinations. ONE-SHOT. Hinted 'romance' but not really a romance story.


_**So I actually have to wake up at 6 tomorrow for part 2 of my awful field trip but I'm just gonna YOLO this so we'll see what happens. This is my second attempt at a one shot as my last one I literally took down after an hour. Any of you guys read it? If so dedication gold star to you!**_

_**Uhmm lets dedicate this to those of you have read it actually as no one I know knows I'm writing this, so sup playas?**_:

* * *

They warn you of the pain when you sign up. Even when you're sitting right outside the door, the screams encasing the building, shaking the floorboards against your feet, they will say, "It's painful. Are you sure you want to do this?" We both realize it's rehearsed. '_How's your day?' 'Good and yours?' 'It's painful. Are you sure you want to do this?'_

"Yes." Because it was the only real option ever given, even from the beginning. The option bolded with blood whilst the others were in fading ink, ink that faded even before you signed up. They say this decision isn't discriminatory, all who sign up will be chosen. That's wrong though. It discriminated since birth. After all: those who signed up were always the ones that lost from the get go.

Caesar said it best, didn't he? Cowards die many times over in a single lifetime but the valiant only taste death once. So why does this feel different? I've done it a thousand times, haven't I? Even as I thought it, the answer came to me numbing all that I was feeling, much like being injected with morphine_. It was because this was the most final one_. The last death. The closing show.

I knew it would happen though. I've known for a while now. You see, I've known since he approached me many, many nights ago. So long ago I could almost close my eyes and make believe it was a dream. But the walls were cocooned in screams. And the floorboards thrummed at my feet. And I just had to know. Dreams didn't feel like this. Even nightmares would step aside in courtesy of death waiting on the other side of this very door, probably looking ever so chipper.

He gave me two options. He made it very clear: there were only ever going to be two to choose from and _choices had to be made_. He would ask what my choice was as he sat on my window sill, perched like a looming bird, his hands up, a finger positioned for the two options on each hand. His one visible pale blue eye sliding back and forth, curious as to which finger I'd choose. There was a long silence. He expected an answer. Finally I got up from where I sat by my desk and quietly walked over. I tapped the finger I had chosen, as if it was a choice to begin with. We made eye contact. I think he expected for me to react. Maybe others screamed. I held the eye contact for a second longer and then I had turned over my shoulder, walking not to the desk but out the door, closing it behind me. Locking him away from my sight. I could close my eyes and reopen them again and again in the midst of the quiet night and pretend it was a dream.

For months there were no seeing him, months became years and soon it wasn't even referred to as a dream anymore, and was downgraded to a hallucination. It wasn't until the cold winter day, the day where I shuffled underneath the porch of the building's doorway, rubbing my hands together to create a warming friction, breathing hot, sticking air on my numbing fingers did I look up and see a damp crumbled paper with fading ink. Test Subjects Warranted it said. It said lots and most more important than the title.

But it was the date that caught my attention. It was a date I recognized. I remember trying to remember why that date was so familiar. People say things click in your mind when you recognize it but my gears seemed to grind to a halting stop and I reached for the attached dangling pen without a conscious thought and took it between my shaking, numb fingers, signing off brokenly. Signing off my fate much as I had done the night of the visit with the touching of his finger. But his finger felt warm and this pen was slicked with condensation happening under the cold frothy air and somehow this seemed more appropriate.

After that it became a regular occurrence in my dreams to meet him. I could confirm this was a dream as the location was always shifting. Some nights I was on a mountain top with him and he'd warn me of what was yet to come. He'd say it like we were discussing weather. In retrospect maybe it was just as easy. If I were in his position, I too wouldn't pity the person standing before me. I wouldn't pity that look, as if I was to look into my eyes I'm sure I'd see the constant death occurring in them. Dying but never being reborn so that I could be fixed little by little. I was to watch as they took a sludge hammer and wail on me with it.

"_It's coming up soon, you realize that? The day is coming closer and closer, yeah." He lounged across one of the rocks, sunbathing in the imagined light. A single knee was bent as the foot pushed into the rock and his other leg dangled. His hands crossed under his head for cushions. He had a look of utter comfort and I was to be different. I sat upright on the rock across from him; my knees almost glued to each other and as one hand rested in my lap the other was trailing absentmindedly around my chin. _

"_Yeah I do."_

_His head shifted to an angle as he peered at me through his thick eyelashes from the side, "So why haven't you done anything? You know like a bucket list, yeah?"_

_I shrugged, "Guess there's nothing I really want to do."_

_He corrected his head, once more staring at the clear sky, "Not even something romantic?" He asked thoughtfully._

"_Guess not." I responded looking away from him and at the surrounding mountain range. It was so beautiful and so rigid that it seemed perfect for this conversation. Even if a tsunami or eruption were to occur the mountains would still stand. They'd be there for a long while. Unlike us. I glance back over at him. Well unlike me._

"_Are you an angel?" I asked suddenly. _

_He stilled and it was only silent for a second before his laughter filled up that silence. He propped himself on his elbow and gazed at me amusedly, his eyes a lit with the same laughter, like he was watching a funny puppy. "Why would you ask that?"_

_My eyebrows knitted together, "You know why." I answered not wanting to be a part of his game._

_A smirk crept onto his lips and it became very obvious that he knew. But also that I was wrong: I was being visited not by an angel but something else entirely._

* * *

_It was the hours before I was to go to my appointment and for the first time he appeared behind me in my mirror's reflection, not in a dream but in real life. He was actually tangible. "Today's the day." He said, as if I wasn't aware._

"_I know." I responded pulling on my sweater over my head. I looked first into my eyes and then into his. He was staring at me like I was amusing once more._

"_Aren't you supposed to be fearing this, yeah? Crying and scared?"_

"_Did the others do that?" _

"_All of them." He confirmed._

_I nodded, taking it in and straightened my sweater. I gave myself a final look and felt the heavy intake of breath against my ribcage before I turned over walking right passed him. He stopped me however by grabbing shoulder. Just as I turned to look at him I felt his soft lips against my own. I let him kiss me and he was the one to pull back. "What was that for?" I asked, not really curious._

"_Just curious I guess. Well I'll be waiting for you then." _

_I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgement and shrugged out of his hold on my shoulders before leaving._

* * *

After being asked if I was sure on this and saying I was, all I could do was wait. It felt like waiting and after waiting for so long but always in the company of him, it felt strange. I almost expected him to pop up but he never did. I would be making these final steps alone with no help from anyone. Somehow that seemed oddly fitting.

I felt it before I heard it. The silence. It was over for the person before me, whether good or bad. No one exited so I assumed it was bad. The woman came back over to me, a pitying look in her eyes, but her eyes weren't red and bloated so pitying can only go so far apparently. "Okay, they're ready for you." I stood. The world didn't shake and my step only faltered once, not in the beginning or the end, but was an accurate representation in faltering in the middle. I got to the door and at least she let me open it.

My hand reached out and took hold of the very cold handle before lightly turning it and with a click opened it. I looked around, the room was large and everything was a pristine white, somehow it seemed like a suitable place for the end. A man, about my age, approached me. His orange hair looked soft in contrast to the smooth surface of everything here. He attempted to shake my hand. I didn't raise my hand in response. He lowered it without a look of offence. "Thank you. We appreciate this."

I just blinked in response before I followed him over to the table with the straps all over it. Without being told to, I sat on it and laid down, noticing how chilled everything felt to my touch. He was the one to strap me in and he secured everything very tightly. I couldn't move. Not really, but that was the point. He went over to his equipment and I heard the laborious switch being pulled and after that everything went blank. I don't remember it.

* * *

I opened my eyes and he was there, peering down at me with his one visible eye, less than a foot away from me. My eyes roamed around, it was the same room except the scientist was no longer there. It was just us. Everything was quiet. "Is this real?" Was the first thing I asked. He took a step back and reached out a hand, waiting for me to take it. After a brief pause I reached up, realizing I wasn't restrained anymore. I took his hand and he pulled me up into a sitting position before I slid off and onto the floor. He let go, gazing at me curiously, "Real enough, I suppose."

I nodded, "Where's the scientist?"

He looked at me oddly, "But not that real."

We looked at each other and I remembered that night so long ago, the two fingers being held in the air.

"_You can choose to know your death and the day or you can ignore this all, go on living without knowing._"

But I wanted to know because I think I lost count after the countless 'deaths'. It wasn't that I was done; just something told me that maybe life's greatest mystery was also life's greatest gift. The closing show and it was a finality that I was ready to accept.

* * *

_** That. Was. The. Most. Horrendous. Field. Trip. Ever, honestly I was ready to open the emergency door and just tuck and roll out of that bus and deal with the repercussions as they came.**_

_** On that note, how was this? Review please, I'll love you eternally!**_


End file.
